Carrying him into the study, the Master gave first aid to the serious dislocation; then phoned for the nearest good vet.
As he left the study, to telephone, he encountered Lady, very woebegone and cringing, at the door.

When he returned, he beheld the remorseful little gold-and-white vixen licking her mate's hurt shoulder and wagging a propitiatory tail in plea for forgiveness from the dog she had bitten and from the Master whose Law she had broken by her attack on the car.
Always, after her brief rages, Lady was prettily and genuinely repentant and eager to make friends again.

And, as ever, Lad was meeting her apologies more than half-way;--absurdly blissful at her dainty attentions.
In the days that followed, Lady at first spent the bulk of her time near her lame mate.

She was unusually gentle and affectionate with him; and seemed trying to make up to him for the enforced idleness of strained sinews and dislocated joint.

In her friendliness and attention, Lad was very, very happy.
The vet had bandaged his shoulder and had anointed it with pungently smelly medicines whose reek was disgusting and even painful to the thoroughbred's supersensitive nostrils.